An interview with Tengin founder Madhu on turning coconuts into a business built around farmers, villages and communities.
Updated
June 1, 2026 1:46 PM

Workers of Tengin. PHOTO: TENGIN
In Southern India, coconuts are part of daily life. They are used in food, rituals, farming and home remedies. For Tengin, a social startup whose name means “coconut” in Kannada—a South Indian language—the crop also offers a way to build a rural business with deeper local impact.
Founded by Madhu Kargunda in 2017, Tengin works with farmers, artisans and women’s collectives in Karnataka to make products from almost every part of the coconut. Its range includes virgin coconut oil, desiccated coconut powder, shell-based handicrafts, candles, home décor items and other coconut-based goods.
The larger idea is simple. Farmers should play a bigger role in the value created from the crops they grow. Tengin is trying to help rural communities move beyond supplying raw produce and take part in processing, branding, packaging and sales.
Madhu grew up in an agricultural family. Over the years, he saw many young people move away from farming to look for stable jobs in cities. To him, the problem was not farming itself. The bigger issue was that farmers often missed out on the value created after crops left the farm.
A coconut might be grown in a village, but much of the income comes later through processing, branding and retail. That gap stayed with him, eventually leading him to leave his eight-year career in IT and return to agriculture full-time.

Started with just making virgin coconut oil, Tengin has grown into a wider coconut products business. The startup is now working with around 15 to 20 farmers and artisan groups across Karnataka. It is also building production capacity for larger retail and B2B partnerships.
Today, Tengin generates annual revenue of roughly ₹50-60 lakh, or around US$52,000 to US$62,000. It has also started testing international demand, including a recent export of around 200 kilograms of desiccated coconut powder to Texas.
As Tengin expanded, the team began looking more closely at parts of the coconut that were usually treated as waste or low-value byproducts, such as coconut shells and coir. At first, Tengin treated them that way too.
“When we started, we used to burn some of the shells”, Madhu said. “Later, we realized it was an economic opportunity”.
That changed the company’s product strategy. Local artisans working with Tengin now are turning coconut shells into bowls, incense holders, candles, coffee mugs, mobile stands and handcrafted décor items.

This gives Tengin a place in the circular economy, where waste materials are reused instead of thrown away. For Madhu, though, sustainability has to do more than reduce waste. It should also create income in the community.
“We wanted to minimize waste and maximize wealth locally”, he said.
Tengin does not depend only on one central factory. Instead, it works with smaller village-level production groups that connect to a larger business network. This helps farmers stay close to their land while also taking part in processing and manufacturing. It also creates local jobs, which can reduce the pressure to migrate to cities.
Yet, the model is not always easy. In the early days, Tengin had to convince some farmers to move from chemical farming to natural farming. Moreover, the weather has also become harder to predict. Irregular rainfall and changing harvest cycles can affect coconut prices and production consistency.
Still, Madhu sees the village-based model as central to Tengin’s identity. For him, villages are living systems built on shared work, local knowledge and interdependence.
“The definition of a village is inclusiveness”, he said.

That belief also shaped Tengin’s “coco tourism” initiative. Through the program, visitors meet farmers, learn about farming practices and see how coconut products are made.
During one visit by MBA students from Indiana State University, an unexpected spell of rain gave the group a closer look at village life. Farmers gathered and began singing traditional folk songs to express gratitude to nature. For the students, it became a lesson in culture as much as business.
Madhu sees these moments as part of what rural entrepreneurship can protect.
“If villages become empty, we lose language, traditions and local knowledge too”, he said.
Tengin’s model is not difficult to copy on paper. Madhu is open about that.
“Anyone can do it”, he said, “but what matters is how you work with people”.
For him, the harder part is building long-term trust with farming communities. Tengin works through relationships more than rigid contracts. This encourages farmers and local groups to participate in the system in a more collaborative way.
That trust has become one of the startup’s strongest assets. It shapes how Tengin works with producers and how it presents its products to customers.
For Madhu, it is not enough to call a product sustainable. Customers should be able to understand where it came from, who made it and how their purchase supports the people behind it.

That matters even more in a market where terms like “eco-friendly” and “organic” have become buzzwords. Madhu knows that these words can feel empty when brands do not show what they actually mean.
“Anyone can use these words today,” he said. “What matters is whether consumers can actually see what you are doing”.
This is why Tengin focuses on transparency and storytelling. The startup wants customers to see the full journey of each coconut product, from the farm to the finished item. It also wants them to understand whose livelihood is connected to that journey.
Madhu also believes small brands cannot depend on products alone. Products can be copied, but a clear story, a trusted community and a visible impact are harder to replicate.
“Don’t try to sell only the product,” he said. “When you try to sell the product, you are being sold once”.
Each Tengin product includes details about the people behind it and how profits are shared. In that way, the company connects its coconut products to the farmers, artisans and village systems that make them possible.
For Madhu, entrepreneurship starts with the problem. Founders, he believes, should understand the problem deeply before thinking about scale and revenue.
“An entrepreneur is someone trying to solve an existing problem”, he said. “Sometimes it may be a small problem, sometimes a niche one. It could be in technology, energy, farming or any other sector—but first understand what problem you are trying to solve”.
Farming has also taught him patience. He gives the example of coffee.
“When you plant coffee, you know it may take five years before you see results”, he said, “but you still [have to] water it every day”.
He sees entrepreneurship the same way. Building systems, communities and trust takes time. Growth may be slow at first, but daily work matters.
Adaptability is another lesson he returns to often. Farming conditions change constantly, and so do markets. In both cases, people have to keep learning, unlearning and adjusting.
“Entrepreneurship is about constantly learning new things because the world is changing all the time”, he said. “You need to stay relevant, understand what connects with [your customers] and adapt accordingly”.
Looking ahead, Tengin plans to grow its farmer network, strengthen production capacity and expand its export business. Madhu is also looking to collaborate with more platforms, storytellers and communities that can help amplify the voices behind the products.
The startup is also involved in rural community initiatives, including support for government schools and menstrual health awareness programs.
For Madhu, giving back is part of how he defines success. With more resources, he would invest further in farmer education, village-level production systems and community development.
By building a business around coconuts, Tengin is also making a larger case for rural entrepreneurship. Its work shows that a modern consumer brand can grow without losing its connection to the farmers, traditions and village ecosystems that make that growth possible. For Madhu, that is the real measure of progress: creating value that stays rooted in the community.
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Updated
January 8, 2026 6:33 PM

A group of entrepreneurs coming up with different ideas. PHOTO: FREEPIK
If startup success stories usually make you picture cutting-edge tech, you might be missing a big part of the picture. Sometimes, the weirdest ideas shine the brightest, making real money and delighting both founders and customers. From ordinary rocks turned into pets to renting live chickens, these unusual startups show how far creativity and a pinch of humor can go.
If you think the business world is all suits and serious pitches, think again—welcome to the wonderfully weird side of entrepreneurship.

Owning a pet is a joy, but let’s be honest—it’s also a handful. Between shedding fur, endless feeding schedules, surprise messes and finding a sitter when you’re away, pet parenting is not exactly effortless.
Back in 1975, an advertising executive named Gary Dahl found himself joking about this very problem over drinks with friends. His solution for the “perfect” pet: a rock. No feeding, no walking, no grooming and absolutely no accidents on the carpet.
What started as a joke quickly snowballed into a real business. Smooth stones were sourced from Rosarito Beach in Mexico, then packed in playful cardboard “pet carrier” boxes with little air holes and a bed of straw. To make the experience even more cheeky, every Pet Rock came with a care manual that instructed owners to give their new companion sunlight, affection and, of course, a name.
It was absurd and hilarious, but it worked. Selling at US$3.95 apiece in the ’70s, Pet Rocks became a cultural phenomenon. Today, you can still find them on Amazon, but they will now set you back around US$29.99 or more. Would you bring home a Pet Rock? People in the ’70s sure did.

Back in 2013, Phil and Jenn Tompkins a couple duo, launched the company "Rent The Chicken" with one straightforward goal: give people a chance to try raising backyard hens and enjoy fresh eggs without the long-term commitment.
Through partnerships with local farmers across the U.S. and Canada, this backyard chicken rental startup brings egg-laying hens straight to people’s yards. It offers different rental packages, but a standard six-month rental costs around US$500. This usually includes two hens ready to lay within days, a portable coop, feed, food and water dishes and expert support for any chicken-related questions.
The chickens arrive in spring and stay until fall. When the season ends, families can choose to return the hens, extend the rental or even buy them for about US$40 each at the end of the contract.
Today, the company works with partners in 29 states, from Oregon to Texas, and in parts of Canadain p. For people outside those areas, an out-of-area purchase package that comes with three hens can be shipped anywhere in the 48 contiguous states in the U.S. for about US$1,550.
In a way, it’s a fun and hands-on path to food security — giving families the joy of collecting their own eggs and knowing exactly where their breakfast comes from.

By day, Gadlin worked as a full-time web developer for a television broadcasting company. Outside of work, he poured his energy into comedy and writing. That creative streak took him back to high school days, when he had drawn silly cats for a comic series called Silly Cats Comic.
With those doodles as his foundation and a bit of basic design know-how, Gadlin launched his website, “I Want to Draw a Cat For You” in 2011. The concept was as simple as it was funny: visitors would describe the cat of their dreams and Gadlin would personally hand-draw it, then send it their way.
This quirky startup idea landed him on Shark Tank, where he secured an offer of US$25,000 from investor Mark Cuban for a 33% stake in the business. Not bad for stick-figure cats.
When the site first launched, customers could pay extra US$5 for colour. Shipping cost US$1 if they didn’t mind the drawing arriving in a folded envelope, or US$5 for a flat mailer. For delivery within 48 hours, there was a US$19.95 rush fee that many customers were happy to pay.
These days, Gadlin leans more on digital delivery and limited runs of his cat drawings at US$50, rather than mailing every single piece of his art. What he once described as “mediocre cat drawings” has become proof that a simple, original idea can claw its way into the startup world.

Imagine arriving in a new city with no one to show you around. That is exactly the kind of situation where RentAFriend can help.
Launched in 2009 by Scott Rosenbaum, the unusual business was inspired by Japan’s “rental family” services, where people can hire a friend, a date or even a parent for a short period. Rosenbaum saw an opportunity to adapt that concept for North America, but with a focus strictly on platonic friendship.
Here’s how it works: Anyone can sign up as a “friend” for free by creating a profile, listing their interests and setting an hourly rate. People who want to hire pay a membership fee, typically around US$24.95 a month, to connect with friends across the platform.
With a rented friend, you can do pretty much anything platonic. Go sightseeing, hit a museum, catch a game, work out together or even bring them along to a party or family event. At its heart, RentAFriend connects people who need company with those happy to earn a little extra simply by being one.

Back in 2014, in the small town of Norwood, Ontario, Canada, three brothers—Jarrod, Darren and Ryan Goldin, set out to do something that sounded downright bizarre at the time: farm crickets for people to eat.
The idea first struck Jarrod after he saw a cricket-based nutrition bar on television. Around the same time, the UN released a report on edible insects as a sustainable food source. Suddenly, the “weird” idea didn’t seem so weird after all.
At Entomo Farms, crickets are raised in cage-free “cricket condos”, where they live in warm, dark spaces that mimic their natural habitat. They’re fed and cared for until they reach about six or seven weeks old, then humanely harvested using a CO₂ method. From there, they’re rinsed, roasted and ground into a fine powder—no additives, just pure cricket protein.
The appeal goes beyond novelty. Crickets are packed with nutrients and need far less land, feed and water than beef, making them both healthy and eco-friendly.
While their approach may seem unconventional, what drives Entomo Farms is simple: making sustainable, responsible food accessible to everyone.
These startups prove that innovation doesn’t always wear a serious face. Sometimes, it turns up wrapped in humor, curiosity or even a touch of absurdity, yet still manages to spark real change. From crickets turned into protein to chickens rented out by the season, each weird startup idea shows that entrepreneurship thrives when people dare to think differently.
While some of these unusual business ideas burned bright then faded, others are still evolving in the background, shifting from fads to niche services or steady, quiet companies. What they share is a willingness to test an idea most people would dismiss at first glance.
That is the real takeaway for founders. Weird startup ideas will not always scale into unicorns, yet they can test new consumer habits, open up fresh markets and shape culture in surprising ways. If you are building something new, there is space for products that make people laugh, think or raise an eyebrow before they reach for their wallet.